Jimmy: My Story
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
He's the lad from Burnley whose brilliance on the pitch and good looks have drawn comparisons with David Beckham and who has established himself as one of the most exciting cricketers in world.
In his first book, James Anderson (or Jimmy, as everyone knows him) tells the story of his life in cricket. His career began at Burnley Cricket Club, where he discovered that he could bowl faster than the rest, before he moved on to Lancashire and then England. His early success made him England's golden boy, before a career-halting injury devastated Anderson. But then came a recent glorious return to form and Ashes triumphs, making this a tale of exuberance, determination and sheer force of character.
Jimmy Anderson speaks openly and forthrightly about those he has played with and against, the captains he has known, and outlines his thoughts on some of the biggest issues in the game today. It all makes for a compelling read.
alongside a former international Neil Fairbrother, who was coming back from injury, and now here I was confronted by my very own England attire. Once it becomes the norm, it loses some of its magic, but at the time it filled me with wonder. One of the moments I will never forget is Phil Neale, our long-serving operations manager, walking up to hand me my first England helmet. The feeling was incredible. I treated it like a prized possession for those first few months, whereas nowadays I get
the point plunged straight into her leg. It was absolutely horrible, and I can’t imagine how much it hurt. This love-hate sibling rivalry was just about the only relationship I had with anyone of the opposite sex prior to one particular Saturday night. The night in question being 21 August 2004. I had had only one serious girlfriend prior to this night – a night that would change my life. Earlier, I had been part of an England side that had completed a ten-wicket victory over West Indies at the
ratio of fans per population in the country, and that tells you something of the feeling from the local people towards the team, and to sport in general. I have a lot of affection for the two grounds down at Turf Moor – the football and cricket clubs are adjacent – as that was where I spent the majority of my youth. In the summer, the cricket club became like a second home, netting with the juniors in midweek and during school holidays, and scoring for the second XI, for whom my dad was captain,
felt sorry for Stuart Broad and Jonathan Trott because they got seriously big runs in our first innings to dig us out of deep trouble at 102 for 7 and helped post an imposing 446 all out. Yet it was all overshadowed by the allegations that Asif and Amir had been coerced into overstepping in delivery at certain scheduled points in the contest under instruction from Pakistan captain Salman Butt, and his agent Mazhar Majeed. They had messed with small parts of the game for personal gain. Rather
persona with a microphone up your nose or TV camera in your face, and there is always something artificial about those situations. But I am very different to how I act in those instances and when I play the game to the real me. I get a game face on, if you like, and it stays on while I am doing my job. But I am keen to take that off, and, as keen as I am to get to know other people, I want people to find out what I am like behind the mask. When a businessman has his suit on, he tends to be